


The Blood Lost From Innocents

by h_nb



Series: Brick [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, Brick is still a serial killer, Failed escape, Knives, Murder, References to Torture, Trail of Blood, Whump, Whumptober 2020, despite the fun times of yesterday's piece, they're still an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:33:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26929708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_nb/pseuds/h_nb
Summary: Whumptober Day Ten: Trail of Blood
Series: Brick [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948501
Comments: 6
Kudos: 3
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	The Blood Lost From Innocents

Samantha Quincy stared at the puddle of blood in front of her, and felt nauseous. She had stumbled across the fresh blood while scoping out a place to hang with her friends this weekend. She had stupidly volunteered to find a cool place for them to hang out, not expecting them to actually notice her. But, for the first time ever, they had, and now Samantha was on a quest far too late at night, searching for whatever could be considered a "cool" place.

But now she had found a fresh pool of blood, trailing off to a shipping container in this unguarded yard she had found. Sarah passed the flashlight from her phone over the concrete again, just to confirm what that she was really seeing this with her eyes.

A morbid curiosity deep within her led her to lift the flashlight out across the yard, following the trail of blood to one of the shipping containers. The door of the container looked unlocked, cracked open slightly. Samantha stared at it, and seriously considered calling 911. That's what she was supposed to do, right? Someone could be hurt, she should call an ambulance to help them.

But... this area was technically no trespassing, she remembered seeing the sign as she had entered, despite the fact that it was seemingly unguarded. And Samantha really didn't want to get anything on her record that could risk her losing her grants, especially if the police got involved. So she took a deep breath and set out toward the shipping container. If she could make sure whoever this blood was coming from that they were at least alive, Samantha could try and figure something out. If they were dead... Samantha's stomach lurched. That'd be more important than her grant, she decided, though she just really hoped she wouldn't find anyone dead.

As she followed the trail of blood up to the shipping container, Samantha's flashlight went out, and then her phone died.

"What the hell?" Samantha muttered, smacking her phone against the palm of her hand. She pressed the power button, but nothing happened. "I swear, I just charged you- stupid phone, knew I should've bought the new one."

There was a muffled scream from the shipping container ahead of her, and the heavy sound of something being hit. Samantha clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a yelp at the sound, barely peeking around the corner.

She couldn't see what was going on. It was far back in the container, and a person stood in front of the lights, blocking much of her limited view. Whoever was over there, though, they sounded like they were in a _lot_ of pain.

Samantha swallowed, trying her phone again, which was still dead. She had to get out of here, and actually go to the police. Someone was being hurt, badly, and Samantha needed to tell someone! So they turned away from the shipping container and the trail of blood, still keeping one hand clamped around their mouth as they began to hurry out of the yard.

Loud static buzzed in their ears, and they flinched, tilting sideways as some bright form of static appeared to their right, and a hand grabbed their arm.

In the dim light of the yard, Samantha could barely make out a large figure a few inches taller than her, gripping her arm tightly. She tried to wrench her arm away, but the stranger had a strong grip, and dragged her back toward the shipping container. Samantha scrabbled for her phone, blinking in surprised and confusion as a bright light shone down on her; a phone flashlight being held above her.

"Hey!" The voice was disarmingly cheerful for the tight grip the stranger had on her arm. "Who the fuck are you?"

Samantha's eyes darted to her left, where her phone had just suddenly turned back on. With a trembling hand, she tried to maneuver it to the emergency call function without drawing too much attention. "S-Samantha Quincy," she stuttered, praying she was hitting the right buttons.

"Yeah I looked you up okay- hey-- you're trying to- Jesus Christ." Samantha dared another glimpse to her phone, and though she pressed on the power button, it stayed dark. Through the reflection of the flashlight, she caught a bare outline of the person in front of her. Sharp grin, long, wild, curly hair, talking far too casually. "You can't fucking _do_ that, 'cause like- this whole fucking thing relies on the cops not getting called on me, and while I wouldn't hesitate to kill a cop if I got the chance, if they show up now they'll have guns and shit and like, fuck cops. You can't call them, and if I let you leave, you'll fucking call them then too."

"Please, I don't, I won't call the cops, I- I promise." Samantha's voice shook with fear, and she could feel a tight pressure behind her eyes, the beginning of tears. "I won't, I swear, I'll just leave, just- let me go."

"See, you haven't really _done_ anything, so I'd like to believe you, but I can't just fucking, I dunno, be super careless with this. So, no hard feelings, but you've gotta die."

"What?" Her tone rose quickly, high-pitched with fear. "No, no no, please, let me go, please!"

"Nah." The flashlight disappeared, and Samantha was plunged in darkness. "If it makes you feel any better, you'll go a lot quicker than that asshole over there."

Samantha opened her mouth to scream for help. She never got the words out.

There was a sudden starburst of pain in her neck, overwhelming all of her senses, and then there was nothing at all.


End file.
